


Vigil 《守夜》

by kuroolongtea



Category: Haikyuu!!, ハイパープロジェクション演劇「ハイキュー!!」| Hyper Projection Play "Haikyuu!!" RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Best Friends, College, Comedy, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fanfiction Comedy (MICF), Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff without Plot, Friends to Lovers, Nerd Kuroo Tetsurou, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, University, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroolongtea/pseuds/kuroolongtea
Summary: Some things mean the most when they’re said in the quietest hours of the night; fortunately, you and Kuroo are no strangers to those breathless moments of intimacy.A tale of two friends with very different social statuses, and how they carefully tread the thin line between friendship and love—before finally tipping over it.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	Vigil 《守夜》

**Author's Note:**

> this was a fic i wrote for a valentine's day collab which happened to be right around lunar new year, so i slipped eight (8) easter eggs of chinese new year traditions into this fic! the answer key can be found on my tumblr @kuroolongtea (it's linked at the end of the fic)
> 
> this ended up being my longest one-shot and also just quite a personal piece, so i really, really hope you all enjoy!

* * *

“He was a nerd, she’s popular,” you sing with a smirk full of intention on your lips. “Can I make it any more obvious?”

“Shut uuup,” Kuroo groans, pinching the skin between his brows. “You’re seriously ad-libbing an ancient Avril Lavigne song—terribly, might I add—and calling _me_ the nerd?”

“Hey, what do you mean terrible?” you ask, threatening to throw whatever you can find within arm’s reach at him. “I think it sounds pretty good—plus, the first-years never lie.”

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Kuroo refutes, waving his hand dismissively as the two wide-eyed girls sitting across from you exchange sheepish looks for the bickering hellscape they’ve caused.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean for it to be offensive,” one of them apologizes. “We were just surprised to hear you two were best friends, that’s all.”

“Yeah, since you’re so… different,” the other quickly adds, nodding in agreement and turning to you. “I mean you’re so well-liked and charismatic, and Kuroo is—”

The first-year slaps her hand over her mouth in horror at the words escaping her lips while a vein pops out on Kuroo’s forehead, and your shoulders begin to tremble under the immense effort of trying not to laugh.

“I’m what, huh?” Kuroo snaps exasperatedly, though his tone is still lighthearted enough for the two girls to hesitantly glance at you as you nod approvingly, encouraging them to continue.

“You just seem like… the opposite of that,” she admits as you howl with laughter, both girls following suit with small giggles while Kuroo groans again, in total disbelief that he’s getting absolutely _clowned_ by you and two _first_ -years.

Nobody knows respect, these days.

“You heard ‘em,” you chuckle victoriously, eliciting a dissatisfied click of the tongue from Kuroo.

“Whatever.”

Now you’re _really_ glad you and Kuroo had decided to attend your club’s ice cream social rather than staying home like you two usually would on any other given Saturday afternoon. 

After the club president had encouraged the members to mingle with people they don’t usually speak to—especially between upperclassmen and underclassmen—you dragged him to approach the two poor girls sitting by themselves, who looked very much lost and intimidated.

Kuroo had thought to himself how on-brand (and maybe even a little sweet) it was for you to be so welcoming and warm to people you don’t even know—god knows _he_ sure as hell doesn’t have that kind of energy. 

In fact, you’re the reason he’s even _in_ a community service club at your university in the first place, since you said it would be good for “meeting new people.” 

He wasn’t too interested in adding yet _another_ extracurricular onto his list of activities and commitments, but you somehow managed to talk him into it, like you always do. Kuroo’s not sure _how_ you do it, but you do. Perhaps he’s finally starting to understand how Kenma felt when he got roped into playing volleyball at Nekoma.

But, because you wanted to continue being the welcoming, friendly upperclassman that you are, Kuroo had merely rolled his eyes and trailed behind you, putting on his “social smile” to greet the two first-year girls, who appeared quite shy at first… until they revealed their true colors by indirectly shitting on him.

Until they said they “couldn’t believe you were best friends with Kuroo,” because he looked like a nerd. 

Well, they didn’t exactly _say_ that. But they also kind of did. 

He can tell.

Okay, so maybe you _are_ … relatively popular and naturally charming—nothing over the top, thank god, but still well-liked enough to render it _impossible_ to walk on campus beside you without being stopped every few minutes by someone you know saying hi (and subsequently ignoring Kuroo).

And _maybe_ you get more likes on an Instagram picture than he has followers on that pointless app, not that he cares for that kind of stuff.

And perhaps he _does_ have some “nerdy” tendencies, such as a genuine interest in chemistry and economics, to the point where he’ll pull out a fun fact about either of those things and call it a conversation-starter (much to everyone’s disdain, at every party you took him to, ever) … but seriously? Did the first-years _really_ have to point out the difference between you two like that? Is it really so obvious? He’s still got his dignity to protect, y’know.

Not that you care, since you _definitely_ won’t be letting him live this down any time soon.

“So did you two meet through the club?” one of the girls asks as she takes another spoonful of her dessert, clearly a bit more relaxed than earlier, now that the tension and ice has been broken. 

You always did have a way with people. No wonder they’re always so naturally drawn to you.

“No, no,” you laugh, waving your hand dismissively and slinging it ~~menacingly~~ lovingly around Kuroo’s shoulder as he grimaces. “We actually met in high school!”

“She was the manager for one of the volleyball teams that we used to host during our training camps,” Kuroo explains, trying (unsuccessfully) to push you off of him. “I must’ve committed treason in a past life or something, because we ended up at the same university—”

You cut him off promptly by wrapping your hands around his neck, playfully choking him.

“He loves me,” you reassure the two mortified first-years with a grin as Kuroo laughs nervously, nodding in forced agreement with his life on the line. “Believe it or not, this guy is actually the one who messaged me first.”

“You’re the one who talked to me first,” he retorts, finally wriggling free out of your terrifyingly strong grasp.

“Yeah, but you’re the one who went out of your way to find me online first,” you refute with full confidence. “You want me to pull up the receipts?”

“Well you asked for my number first,” he huffs, scratching his neck with feigned nonchalance.

“Only because _you_ asked me to hang out first,” you shoot back without hesitation.

The two innocent bystanders merely watch as the bickering resumes, exchanging looks with one another that very blatantly say, _Ah shit, here we go again._

And, truthfully, Kuroo _is_ the one who messaged you first, which led to the start of your friendship. There’s no lie there.

What none of them know though, is that _you’re_ the one who caught feelings for him first.

* * *

**[03:11]**

“Dude, listen to this,” you say to Kuroo as he looks up at you from his phone, neither of you studying like you said you would. “You know how there are popular tropes you see in movies and books and stuff? Like friends-to-lovers, enemies-to-lovers, stuff like that.”

“Yeah?” Kuroo yawns and nods, putting his phone down to stretch his arms as he leans back in his chair.

“Someone online said, ‘what if we started doing backwards versions of them,’” you read from your phone. “Like ‘too many beds,’ or ‘reverse apocalypse’ where everyone is freaking out because life starts to get good.”

Kuroo chuckles at the latter as you read another one, giggling, “Oh my god listen to this one: a really, really sweet guy who _only_ hates you.”

“Yeah, that would be me at you,” he says, ducking intuitively as you throw your eraser at his head.

“Shut up.”

A minute passes in the quiet study room that you two managed to snag in the school library, your books and backpacks strewn across the long, wooden table as you continue scrolling through your phone (read: procrastinating).

“Pffft, here’s another funny post,” you snort. “If you had teeth coming out of your butthole, would you go to the dentist or the surgeon?” 

“What the fuck.”

You hold in a laugh at Kuroo’s bewildered and disgusted expression, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Well?”

“Hm…” he ponders for a moment, tapping his chin with his finger. “Shouldn’t you go to the dentist for that? I feel like surgeons wouldn’t know anything about teeth structure or extraction.”

“But the teeth are in your butt,” you point out. “You think a dentist has seen a butthole before?”

Kuroo cackles at your response.

“Ok be honest though, would you brush the teeth in your butthole?” he asks.

“The fuck,” you say instinctively in response to his question, but answer anyway. “Yeah I would. Might have to break my back looking in the mirror just to do it though.”

“Pffft,” Kuroo wheezes. “Maybe mouthwash can come out of the bidet instead of water.”

Both of you keel over and press your foreheads against the table, trying not to be too loud with your laughter, for fear of disturbing the other students in the library studying outside, despite the closed glass doors separating you.

It’s always so much more difficult to resist laughing when you _know_ you’re not supposed to be doing it.

“Maybe your poop would come out as little pellets if you grew teeth in your butthole,” Kuroo says under his breath, trying to get you to crack. “Y’know, like a rabbit.”

“Stoooop,” you exhale, slapping your hand over your mouth and trying not to holler. “At least you’d never clog the toilet that way.”

“Remember that time you—”

“NO.”

Kuroo inhales shakily, trying to calm himself down from his laughing fit earlier, but can’t resist making one more comment.

“Can you imagine going to the dentist and just taking your pants off, but your underwear gets caught on the teeth—”

“Oh my god _stop_ ,” you squeak, another wheeze escaping your mouth as you two fall back into another round of painful, silent laughing. “We’re like, _actually_ twelve years old.” 

“You’d go through underwear so fast,” he points out while you try not to bang your fist against the table. “And you’d have to lay upside down at the dentist for them to treat you.”

You wipe a tear from your eye as you consider this.

“I’m pretty sure laying your bare ass out for the dentist unprovoked _has_ to be considered some form of sexual harassment,” you say as Kuroo practically howls with laughter, this time eliciting a few glances from the strangers outside your study room while he holds his stomach. “They’d at least have to arrest you for public indecency or something.”

“Ok but do you think your farts would smell like burps?” Kuroo asks, taking deep breaths through sore cheeks. “Or at least sound like them?”

“That is the dumbest and grossest thing I’ve heard you say all day,” you groan.

“Hey, I mean it’s three in the morning,” he points out. “Honor the pact, remember?”

Ah yes, the mutual agreement you and Kuroo made during one of many stressful all-nighters that every university student knows much too well: anything said between the ungodly hours of 2 a.m. and 5 a.m. shall not be crucified or subject to scrutiny by the other person.

“Yes, yes, I remember,” you say, rolling your eyes. “There are exceptions though—some of the stupid shit you say _really_ deserves to be shamed… like that time you had the audacity to say cereal tastes better when milk is poured first. Absolutely unbelievable.”

“That’s not fair,” Kuroo claims, putting on a fake, hurt expression. “Don’t hate me ‘cause you ain’t me, alright?”

“God, shut up,” you groan again at how lame he sounds before letting out a long sigh. “But we should… probably get back to studying.”

“Were we ever really studying in the first place?” Kuroo’s shoulders slump in defeat.

“Imagine having all weekend to prepare for our exams, and we decide to start in the middle of the night on Sunday—or, I guess I should say Monday,” you say, shaking your head disapprovingly.

“Imagine,” Kuroo echoes. “To be fair, I _know_ I can do well on my exams. I just… underestimated how much material I actually have to go through.”

“Underestimated, or forgot?” you tease, raising your eyebrow.

“Ok, forgot.”

“Well, good thing we’re no strangers to this type of routine,” you announce, putting your phone away so you can actually focus. “We’re only grinding from here on out—no more distractions for the rest of the night.”

“Excuse me, _you’re_ the one who brought up teeth coming out of buttholes,” Kuroo chides, though following suit by opening his textbook. “But alright, first person to fall asleep has to pay for the next meal.”

“You’re on,” you hum, taking a sip of your coffee, now room-temperature from sitting untouched for so long, and also proceed to mutter under your breath, “We _really_ gotta do something about this god awful lifestyle of ours.”

But despite the countless work nights you two have spent together, you’re well-aware that, with the way your heart still pounds loudly against your chest at the [illegally] cute way Kuroo’s messy, tousled hair looks at night, there’s simply no way you could be falling asleep any time soon.

* * *

You stand outside the tutoring building, the low, afternoon sun shining bright, orange rays against the tall glass windows beside the doorway, adorned with large letters reading, _“TUTORING CENTER.”_

You stop for a moment and wonder if you should go inside, but remember that Kuroo had told you the center is open to other students—not just tutors and tutees—if they’d like to use the empty tables as a study space. And since you’re early, considering Kuroo’s shift as a local chemistry ~~nerd~~ tutor doesn’t end for another ten minutes, maybe you can take a gander around his workplace, since you’ve never actually had any need to enter the building before.

Usually, he’s already waiting for you outside before you two walk to the weekly club meeting together, so this could be fun. Maybe you’ll even catch a glimpse of him in the zone, wearing his unflattering work uniform, which is just a big, blue t-shirt that says “Tutoring Center” on it. 

Honestly, you didn’t see much of an issue with it, until he started complaining about how ugly it looked on him, which is why he _always_ changes out of it before you arrive at the building.

But today, he’s got nowhere to hide.

You walk into the building and follow the signs to a room that says, _“Drop-In Tutoring,”_ and you see him—Kuroo’s never hard to spot, with that tall, spiky hair of his, frankly.

He’s the only tutor at the chemistry table, with a pretty girl sitting across from him, whom you assume is the first-year Kuroo had told you about—the one that comes by every week to ask him for help on homework. 

Although you see him stand up to gather his materials, most likely wrapping up their session, you can’t help but notice the way she looks at him, wide-eyed and giggling at everything he says. It’s not unlike the way you found yourself acting when you and Kuroo first started talking all those years ago.

You stop yourself from chewing your lip once you see Kuroo look up, making eye contact with you as you give him a knowing, teasing smile with a glance at his t-shirt. He merely rolls his eyes at you, and you can practically hear him saying, _“I know, I know, shut up.”_

Kuroo says an inaudible word of goodbye to his tutee before taking his backpack and making his way towards you, stopping abruptly once he’s right in front of you.

You raise a brow at him, but your eyes widen when he suddenly pulls you into a stiff hug with his arms, holding you for a few seconds before letting go.

“Hey,” he grins.

“Hey?” you echo, completely caught off guard while you blink at him in confusion. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to hug you or anything, but that _particular_ embrace just felt straight up weird. 

From the bottom of your heart, you feel _genuinely_ sorry for the girl, as well as any other tutors or students in the room, who had to see that. You feel like you owe them money or something, as financial compensation since they had to witness such an atrocious act against god.

“That was the most awkward thing you’ve ever subject me to in public,” you say as he begins to usher you out of the building, laughing nervously at your comment. “And if you ever greet me by pulling something like that again, I will have no choice but to bully you.”

“Now that’s just mean,” Kuroo protests, once you two are out in the empty hallway. “I was just trying to show my affection for my best friend.”

“Show your affection my butthole,” you snort, walking beside him as he pulls the blue tutoring t-shirt over his head, revealing the typical black shirt he always wears underneath it. 

“Your toothy butthole?” Kuroo asks, eliciting a grimace from you.

“Shut up,” you groan. “Why did you end early today anyway? I thought you had like ten minutes left of your shift.”

“Nah, we ended on time,” he responds to your question, scratching his head. “You’re just usually late when you get here.”

“That is _not_ true,” you shoot back as you two walk through the campus together. “I’m pretty sure you told me you get off work when I finish the class I have right before I walk over.”

“I said I’m off ‘by the time you finish class,’” he chuckles. “That could mean ten, even twenty minutes before you get here.”

“So in other words, you lied to me?” you ask, rolling your eyes. “Just so you can change out of that ugly t-shirt before I get here?”

“I wouldn’t call it _lying_ , per se,” Kuroo responds, puckering his lips like he’s not guilty of anything. “I just… didn’t tell you the full truth—ow!”

You give him an annoyed punch on the arm as he chuckles.

“Well, how was your tutoring session today?” you ask, like you always do while you two walk to your club meeting. “I honestly think the t-shirt looks fine on you by the way, the color isn't even that bad. If there’s one ugly thing, it’d be you, not the shirt.”

“Shut up,” he groans as you laugh. “Tutoring was fine—well, there was something pretty interesting that happened.”

“Oh?” you turn to look at him, now providing your full attention. “What was it?”

Kuroo hesitates for a moment, thinking about how he should phrase this.

“I think the girl I was tutoring has a crush on me,” he sighs. 

You’re not sure if your heart feels like it’s sped up or simply dropped entirely, and you don’t see the way Kuroo peers at you carefully through his peripheral vision, gauging your reaction.

“No way.”

“Dude, we were literally in the middle of a chemistry problem,” he chuckles, though a bit awkwardly. “And then she just turned to me and asked, ‘Do you have a girlfriend?’”

You swear your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. 

“I know,” Kuroo says, laughing at your reaction. “It caught me off guard so I was just like, ‘Uh, yeah, I do,’ and then immediately went back to explaining the problem to her.”

“Oh noooo,” you groan, slapping your forehead out of secondhand embarrassment for that poor girl. “She has some real balls to be so bold though, you gotta give her that.”

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Kuroo agrees, rubbing the back of his neck. “I do feel kind of bad though.”

“Well I guess this time, you _did_ actually lie,” you giggle, easing the tension in his shoulders—until you suddenly freeze in your tracks. “Oh my god. You fucker.”

“What did I do?” he exhales, not that he needs to ask.

“That poor girl thinks I’m your girlfriend, huh,” you accuse, face heating up at the realization. “I literally look like I just went to pick you up after your shift—you totally played me.”

“Well…” Kuroo shrugs, avoiding eye contact with you. “I mean it was better than telling her I’m single but I’m not interested in her, isn’t it?”

You roll your eyes at him again before resuming walking.

“Not really,” you admit as he blinks at you in surprise. “It’s so obvious it’s fake—I mean, I’m clearly out of your league.”

“Shut up,” he scoffs at your insult, quickly searching for a way to protect his precious pride. “Pfft, if anything, _I_ should be out of _your_ league.”

You suddenly stop again, a look of fearsome concern washing over your face.

“Kuroo…” you murmur, turning to look at him with anxious, troubled eyes. “Oh no…”

“W-what?” he stammers, slightly off put by your immediate change in demeanor. 

“Are… are you okay?” you choke while stretching your arm out to rest a hand on his forehead, as if checking for a fever. “Are you sick? You’re suddenly… _delusional_ …”

Kuroo feels a vein throb in his forehead.

“Man, fuck off.”

You cackle aggressively when he swats your hand away, fuming and irritated at how good you just got him.

Kuroo’s gaze lingers on your back for a brief moment once you continue walking ahead of him, waving your hand for him to “catch up, loser.” 

He wonders if you were even _slightly_ affected when he told you that someone else was interested in him.

Probably not.

You _are_ “out of his league,” after all.

* * *

**[02:21]**

It’s unfortunate that a couple of weeks is all it takes for your schoolwork and exams to start piling up again, right when you thought you’d finally caught a break.

It’s also unfortunate that, in deciding to study at the public library instead of the school library for a “change of scenery,” you and Kuroo both completely forgot that it is actually _not_ normal for communal buildings to be open 24/7. 

Thus, when the poor, underpaid librarian came to shoo the both of you out at 2 a.m., your only other option was to take the studying back to your apartment, since Kuroo didn’t want to impose on his roommate.

And honestly, you wouldn’t have had a problem with it, since it makes sense; why else would you pay extra rent to live by yourself, if you couldn’t bring people over whenever you wanted?

But what made you second-guess that decision was your best friend, with a messy, bird’s-nest-of-a-head of what he calls “hair,” telling you that you _really_ need to clean your apartment.

Seriously?

He comes over, and _that’s_ the first thing he says when he steps through the door?

Granted, your living room doesn’t look… the best, but it’s still manageable.

And yet, here you are at two in the morning, picking up random objects scattered on the floor and table while Kuroo vacuums, simply because that certain _someone_ said he “can’t focus in a pig pen.”

Wait a minute, did that shit-head just indirectly call you a pig?

Of all the things you were expecting from your late night study session, a deep-cleaning of your apartment was definitely not one of them.

Lucky for you, ~~Satan~~ Kuroo is willing to let you off after a mere 45 minutes, since you both _do_ still have work and studying to do.

… But the productivity doesn’t last long, before both of you have your hands in your hair, balled into fists from the mental strain. 

Why didn’t anyone warn you that being an upperclassman in university would be so damn hard? Does it _ever_ get easier? 

You forcefully peel your eyes off of your laptop screen to peer over it, taking the opportunity to check on Kuroo—who’s sitting across from you at your dining table—and see how he’s doing.

Well, it seems he’s not doing great either.

Maybe it’s the way he’s looking downwards at his textbook, but his dark circles look _extra_ prominent from where you are, and his resting expression would make you think he’s _royally_ pissed off, if you didn’t know any better. But you do, and you know he’s just… stressed.

You sigh loudly and lean back in your seat, successfully grabbing his attention as he looks up at you.

“Well?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “How’s it going?”

“Do you even need to ask?” he sighs, pulling himself away from the book to slump down into his chair. “My brain is fried. You?”

“Same,” you say, though stifling a small chuckle at the way Kuroo rubs circles into his temples. You’re not sure why he always looks so funny when he’s pushed to the edge.

“There’s a lot of… stress and tension in the room,” you hum, a tiny glint in your eye.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Kuroo yawns. “And?”

Ignoring the first half of his sentence, you chirp, “And I think I have the perfect solution.”

“Oh?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow at you, before mirroring your smirk. “I do too.”

“On three?” you ask, sitting up straight to level your eyes with his.

“Ok.”

You smile, and begin counting.

“One, two, three—order food!”

“Watch porn.”

Kuroo ducks instinctively as you hurl your eraser at his head, wondering when he got so fast with his defensive reflexes. You miss the days where the piece of rubber would just bounce off his skull like he deserved.

Men.

“Hey, honor the pact! Honor the pact!” Kuroo cries as you reluctantly yield your efforts to beat him to a pulp. “I obviously meant order food… ”

He cackles at your irritated expression and then proceeds to ask, “What do you want?”

“Oh no, a decision,” you wail theatrically while he rolls his eyes at you. “Please don’t make me choose, or else we’re just gonna starve.”

“Right, right,” he sighs, pulling out his phone to open the food-delivery app that you two use so frequently together. “Fine, I’ll choose then, like I _always_ do. I can’t stand you, y’know that?”

“You definitely love me,” you grin.

“I most definitely do _not_ ,” Kuroo retorts, his finger sliding against the screen to browse the list of open restaurants. “I’m starting to think you always make me order so that I’m the one who has to pay.”

“Oh, shut up,” you chuckle. “You act like I’m cheating you out of your money even though I pay you back every time. If anything, you’re more likely to be a scammer than I am.”

“What the hell, how?”

“I dunno, you just _look_ like a conman.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean—”

You laugh while Kuroo shakes his head in disbelief, truly at a loss for words.

“How about this Asian fusion place?” he suggests after a few minutes, handing you his phone for you to inspect the menu. “It’s not far from here, they do delivery, and the prices are pretty good.”

“Oo, this looks amazing,” you marvel, stomach suddenly growling at the sight of all the mouth-watering pictures on his screen. “I’m down.”

“Cool,” Kuroo gives you a satisfied, lopsided grin as you hand his phone back to him. “We can place our order, be productive for a solid thirty minutes or so, then take a break when the food gets here, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you nod excitedly. 

And the surprising thing is, after you both picked out what you wanted to order, you _did_ end up having the most productive thirty minutes of the night. Perhaps it’s the power of hunger and anticipation, but you’re not complaining, and neither is he.

It was a comfortably silent, but undoubtedly efficient, half hour until your doorbell finally rang.

Kuroo had pretty much bolted out of his seat to retrieve the late-night meal while you immediately got up to gather plates and utensils—if anything, you two _are_ quite the dynamic pair when it comes to food.

“This looks _so_ good,” you say in awe as you take a video of the impressive display on your coffee table, since your dining table is well-occupied by your books and study materials. “I’m gonna put this on my story—you wanna say hi to the camera?”

Kuroo stares blankly as you pan away from the food to zoom in on his face, the video shaking as you laugh at how endearingly awkward he looks.

You swiftly type a caption and tag him in the video, posting it quickly so you can also start eating already.

“Of course you got grilled mackerel,” you giggle at Kuroo’s order—you wonder if he’s predictable or you just know him that well. You like the idea of the latter.

“Well, it _is_ my favorite food,” he points out, chewing happily as his energy slowly returns. “Have some if you want.”

Kuroo takes out his own phone to watch the video you just posted of him, praying it’s not as bad as he thinks it is (it’s… pretty bad—he looks like a wide-eyed raccoon who’s just been caught stealing food and eating it in someone’s backyard), while you get up to take out a new box of napkins from the top of your storage cabinet for your meal.

Kuroo cringes at how stiff he looks in your video, and purses his lips at the two new “follow requests” he’s received as a result of you tagging him.

Of course.

You and your social media. It really is just a whole other world to him.

Putting his phone away, Kuroo glances up to see you struggling to reach the top shelf, even on your tip-toes. Hiding a smirk, he sets his food down on the coffee table before walking up behind you, stretching out an arm to grab a box of napkins with ease.

You blink at the feeling of his chest lightly brushing against the back of your head, cheeks heating up at the unexpectedly close contact. As you whirl around, he places the unopened box on the top of your head, and chuckles, “If you needed help, you could’ve just asked.”

“You think you’re soooo smooth, don’t you,” you huff, catching the napkins with your hands as the box falls, but he’s already made his way back to the couch, picking up his chopsticks to continue eating.

“It’s because I am,” he grins, biting his lip in a sarcastically seductive way that makes you want to hurl—both as a physiological reaction, and also as a desire to throw something at his head.

“You’re so gross.”

“And you’re just short, by the way,” he shoots back, filling your empty plate with rice cakes and other foods that you’ve ordered. “Now come eat.”

“Just because you could probably be the next protagonist of that movie, _Tall Girl_ , doesn’t mean the rest of us are short,” you retort as you join him on the couch, opening the box of napkins and taking one out for each of you. “Thanks.”

“Mhm,” he hums, shaking his head with a small smile at how _delighted_ you look eating greasy takeout at three in the morning. “Try not to eat absolutely _everything_ , please. Some leftovers would be good.” 

Frankly, you’re not sure how Kuroo always manages to finish his food so quickly compared to you—does he just inhale it or something? Does this guy even chew?

“Hey look,” you chirp, pointing at your phone screen. “Bokuto just swiped up on my story and said, ‘How come you two never sleep? Kuroo looks kinda funny here btw.’”

“Oh shut up, did he actually?” Kuroo grates, leaning in to look over your shoulder. “C’mon, man.”

“He speaks only the truth,” you tease. “Let’s take a picture together and send it to him.”

You open your phone’s camera and wave at it with a bright smile, while Kuroo merely juts his bottom lip out with his middle finger up. 

“I love it,” you laugh as you caption the picture with the words, _“we miss u <3”_ before sending it to your silver-haired friend. “I think it captures both of our personalities perfectly.” 

“Whatever, I’m gonna take a nap while you eat,” Kuroo yawns, already laying down on the couch beside you before you have the chance to protest. “Twenty minutes.”

“You can’t just give in to the food coma like that,” you scold, as he grabs your jacket hanging off the edge of the couch and pulls it over his long torso. “You are _definitely_ gonna go over twenty minutes.”

“That’s why I have you,” he says matter-of-factly, closing his eyes. “You won’t let me oversleep, because I know you’ll strangle me at any given opportunity.”

“Hm, touché.”

You continue to eat quietly as you scroll through your phone, but can’t resist the urge to peer over at Kuroo once you hear his breathing steady. The way his chest rises and falls with every breath after he drifts off to sleep within mere _seconds_ reminds you that, beneath his sarcastic and humorous exterior, Kuroo is still hardworking, determined, and intelligent. You know better than anyone just how dedicated and driven he is, yet he still finds the time and energy to care for people around him—and you’re lucky enough to be one of them. 

A smile creeps onto your lips at the sight of this tall, lanky man laying on your couch, curled and tucked under your small jacket, which _barely_ covers the upper half of his body.

It’s honestly… kind of cute, but you’ve always known that Kuroo is endearing in his own way—you’d just never actually tell him that. 

Your heart rate increases ever so slightly as your chest swells with warmth, and you think about how amusing it is that Kuroo has absolutely _no_ idea just how powerless you feel before him sometimes. Yes, you do still believe that he’s a total dork, a complete weirdo, and also acts super lame, but you love him anyway. 

With your whole heart. 

* * *

You’ve always known that you and Kuroo are quite similar people in terms of character, despite your differences in social status, as well as preferences for ways to go about interacting with others (Kuroo just prefers not to). After all, that’s why you two get along so well in the first place.

But what you didn’t expect, was for even your life events to mirror each other’s, as you are now _also_ faced with the uncomfortable predicament of rejecting someone in public, just a day after Kuroo told you about his unexpected confrontation.

_You’ve gotta be kidding me_ , you think to yourself as you stare at the awkward, brown-haired stranger—most likely also a university student—who just approached you while you wait for your boba order to be completed.

“I-I just… I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he blurts out, clearly still nervous about even speaking to you. “A-and… I was wondering if I could get your number.”

You blink in surprise, taken aback by his question—the poor guy is brave, you’ll give him that.

“Oh, thank you,” you answer politely, carefully contemplating what you should say next. Suddenly, you completely understand what Kuroo meant by “a little white lie never hurt anyone,” so you really shouldn’t feel bad about being dishonest.

“That’s really sweet of you to say,” you start, smiling apologetically at the way the stranger’s eyes light up with hope. “But... I have a boyfriend—sorry about that.”

He looks like his whole world has just come crashing down as he sputters, “Oh, no it’s okay! Sorry for bothering you.”

You let out a sigh of relief once he slinks away in defeat, back to his table of two other guys who comfort him with reassuring pats on the back and whispers of, _“It’s ok man, you tried.”_ He seemed nice enough, but there will always be a sliver of fear when it comes to how men react to rejection, hence the “I’ve got a boyfriend” excuse, rather than just “sorry, I’m not interested.”

It’s unfortunate that men seem to respect each other and their “claims over women” more than a woman’s personal choice to say no, but that’s a can of worms you’d prefer not to open right now.

Then again, if a certain _someone_ had shown up to the boba shop you two agreed to meet at on time, you wouldn’t have had to go ahead and order for you both, and _also_ probably could’ve avoided that uncomfortable situation entirely.

But, speaking of the devil, right after you grab your drinks and make a quick exit from the shop, you almost collide with Kuroo as he jogs past the store windows and turns into the doorway.

“Oh my—”

“Jesus—”

“Watch where you’re going,” you scold, though laughing at how you two almost gave each other concussions. “You won’t believe what just happened.”

“What?” he asks, taking one of the drinks from you with a small nod of thanks. 

“The brown-haired guy sitting at that table inside just asked me for my number because I’m the ‘prettiest girl he’d ever seen,’” you say, grinning. “Which I am, by the way.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kuroo scoffs while you smack him in the arm. “Which one is it?”

“Oh my god, don’t make it so obvious!” you whisper urgently, dragging him away as he cranes his long neck to get a good look at everyone inside. 

“Aw, he’s cute,” Kuroo teases, taking a sip of his drink while he slings his arm around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Bet he wishes he were me right now.”

He’s “cute?” 

Does Kuroo even care?

Well, probably not, since the last time some man tried to take you out to dinner, Kuroo was the one who said, “Go for it, might as well cop a free meal.”

“You are _actually_ the worst,” you groan at the physical contact, refusing to look at the poor guy inside the boba shop, whose heart is probably breaking at the sight. “Also, new haircut?”

You extend a hand out to ruffle his hair, and he leans down slightly to let you.

“Yup, that’s why I was late,” he says sheepishly before eyeing you up and down. “What about you? New jacket?”

“Yeah—”

“Oh wait,” he says, interrupting you. “New pants too. And new shoes? Wow, basically an entirely new outfit.”

“Yeah,” you answer again, rolling your eyes to hide the fact that, maybe, you dressed up nicely to see him. “Didn’t know you had my whole wardrobe memorized—guess you’re more observant than I thought.”

“You know me, the perfect, observant boyfriend,” Kuroo brags while you gag.

“More like the devil reincarnated, me thinks.”

“Stop lying, you don’t think,” Kuroo cackles while you two continue walking down the street. 

“I _think_ I can beat your ass if I wanted to,” you threaten as he holds his hands up in defeat. “Are you still gonna go home to take a nap? We both stayed up pretty late last night.”

“Yeah, I’m about to knock out cold,” he nods, yawning at the thought. “Are you? Or do you need like five hours to get ready for the banquet?”

Oh right, the annual club banquet. 

You were so busy running around all day studying and taking exams that you’d almost forgotten it was happening tonight, even though you had a dress picked out and everything beforehand.

“You’re so dramatic,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I do _not_ take five hours to get ready.”

“Sure feels like it every time we go out,” Kuroo mutters, taking another sip of his drink. “I feel like I grow another grey hair every time you tell me, ‘wait, I’m almost done’ because I know for a _fact_ you are nowhere near being done.”

“Whatever,” you huff, though slightly embarrassed at being called out like this. “It’s not easy looking this good, y’know. You’ll see.”

... And several hours later, when the sun has set and you’ve arrived at the venue that your club has reserved for the party, Kuroo _does_ see. 

He sees very well, alright. Maybe a little _too_ well.

Kuroo has always known you were pretty; after all, he hears you get complimented on your appearance all the time, not that you’ve ever let it stroke your ego. Maybe that’s something he appreciated about you.

But the second you set foot into the building and his eyes landed on you, he immediately understood everyone’s infatuation with you, and realized that you were nowhere near just “pretty.”

You’re fucking beautiful.

Leave it to you to take the one formal event you two would attend in a year, and knock it out of the ballpark, as well as everyone off their feet. 

He sees the way your red dress fits you like a glove, the pretty fabric hugging your skin and draping over it in all the right places.

He sees the way you’ve done your hair and makeup, all perfect and charming, as exemplified by the group of club members who rushed to your side once you stepped through the doors, praising the way you look in gushes of adoration.

And for the first time ever, Kuroo thinks he feels his heart skip a beat.

He notices the way his chest tightens at the sight of you, even more so when you’re laughing and chatting with other people in the club as he sits by himself, watching from afar—but nothing can compare to the way he feels all the air escape his lungs when you two make eye contact.

You smile at him, brighter and warmer than ever, and he waves back, drinking his cup of cold apple cider to cool down. 

_Get it together_ , he mutters internally as you make your way towards him, still garnering a few starstruck glances from the girls and guys alike.

The power that popular girls hold is terrifying, honestly.

“You’re kidding, right?” you groan once you reach him. “Why the fuck are we matching?”

Kuroo glances down at his dark red dress shirt that isn’t too far off from yours in terms of color, and back at you with a grin.

“I’ve just got taste, apparently,” he chuckles, pouring you a cup of apple cider as well.

You eye the silver, almost white tie that Kuroo chose to wear, noting the way it not only complements the shade of his button-up, but also resembles the shade of your own silver jewelry. 

He looks… attractive. Really attractive. And you two look good.

“You clean up nice,” you beam, taking the drink from him.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he responds with a confident smile. 

“Of course I don’t,” you joke, rolling your eyes. “But the dress shirt fits you really well. Now I can see you in the future as a businessman with a collection of expensive suits or something.”

“Really?! No way,” he almost yells in excitement, immediately shattering the short-lived image of “cool guy Kuroo.”

“... Nevermind.”

You two sit quietly and sip your drinks, the _tiniest_ trace of a barely-detectable tension in the air, as you watch some of the underclassmen chatter with each other excitedly at how nice the event is.

You wonder if you’re imagining it.

“What do you think they’re gonna do tonight?” Kuroo asks, breaking the silence.

“You know, the usual. Same things they do every year,” you murmur. “Maybe play some games, hand out awards for the most outstanding club members, put on a movie or two.”

“It’s kind of nice watching the youngins and the newer club members enjoy themselves though,” Kuroo observes as you laugh.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, old man,” you chuckle. “We’re not _that_ much older, y’know.”

“Sure feels that way when I had to sleep four hours before coming to this just to charge my social battery and have enough energy,” Kuroo admits with a sigh. “But now I’m gonna be _wide_ awake for the rest of the night.”

“Funny,” you say with a sip of your drink. “Me too. You wanna come over later to hang out, then?”

“Sure,” he shrugs. “What’re we gonna do?”

“What we always do—a whole lot of nothing,” you answer, eliciting chortles from both of you. “You know how it’s like a special occasion for people to stay up and welcome the new year? We can do that, but like a ‘celebrating the end of our exams’ type of thing instead.”

“Down,” Kuroo grins, suddenly secretly looking forward more to that than the actual club banquet itself. “It’s been a while since either of us saw the sunrise _not_ because we were pulling an all nighter for school.”

“Alright, looks like we’ve got plans for the rest of the night then,” you smile. “Seriously, we should just rebrand ourselves as owls at this point.”

“But then we’d be stealing Bokuto’s identity,” Kuroo points out with a small chuckle.

“Touché.”

* * *

**[05:49]**

“This actually isn’t as painful as I thought it’d be,” you say, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders a bit tighter in the chilly air. “I’m not sleepy at all.”

“Same here,” Kuroo echoes, taking another potato chip from your shared bag and popping it into his mouth. “And this is probably the most use we’ve ever made out of your balcony.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” you hum, the crickets chirping quietly in the background. “The stars are so bright tonight, too.”

“Yeah,” he says casually, turning his head to look at you. “Are you not gonna take your makeup off? I mean you changed out of your dress already.”

You stiffen slightly at the question, forgetting that Kuroo has spent enough time with you to know the ins and outs of your nighttime routine.

“I really liked the way it turned out today,” you admit sheepishly as he shakes his head at you. “It’s pretty. Don’t wanna wash it all off.”

He wonders if this is his cue to say something nice, for once. There’s something about the air during the quiet, breathless hours of the night that makes him feel… soft, for lack of a better word.

“You’re always pretty, with or without makeup,” Kuroo sighs. “I thought that was like a given at this point.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow at him, lips twitching upwards into a smile. “Why, thank you—is this perfect boyfriend material Kuroo coming out again? You do seem like you _enjoy_ playing the role of my boyfriend, if you ask me.”

“You wish,” he retorts. “Maybe _you’re_ the one who likes being _my_ girlfriend.”

Other than the fact that you literally threatened to _bully_ him when he gave you the most stiff and painfully awkward hug of the century in front of his tutee, you can’t help but feel your cheeks flush with warmth at the way his sentence makes it sound like you two are dating.

Damn Kuroo and the way he never thinks before he speaks.

But perhaps you don’t either.

“Mm, maybe I do,” you murmur. “What then?”

The words leave your mouth before you can even stop them—or maybe you subconsciously made the decision to say them, because you wanted to. Either way, it’s too late now.

Your heart pounds loudly against your chest as you continue looking forward, terrified to see what Kuroo’s reaction is.

The seconds feel like minutes as he doesn’t respond.

“What’re you saying?” Kuroo finally manages to get out, his mind a frenzied mess at what you just said. “Wait, like seriously?”

Are you messing with him? Was that supposed to be sarcastic? What do you mean??

You take a deep, shaky breath and finally turn to look at him, squeezing your hands into fists as you will yourself to make it through the next sentence with dignity.

It’s all or nothing.

“I’m saying that I like you.”

Kuroo blinks in astonishment, clearly at a loss for words as he says nothing.

A lump forms in your throat as your heart sinks at his silence, wondering if you should prepare yourself for rejection.

His face reddens with the dim glow of the living room behind you as he scrambles to find something to say, and you suddenly feel guilty for putting him in this situation.

“Honor the pact,” you mumble, now thoroughly embarrassed as you wonder why you _ever_ thought confessing would be a good idea. “You’re not allowed to shame anything I say, remember?”

You think you’re going to cry as you turn away from him, burying your face in your arms as you hug your knees to your chest. 

This is so uncomfortable. You can’t remember the last time you fucked up this bad.

“I like you too,” Kuroo blurts out as your eyes widen.

“... What?”

“I like you too,” he says again, running his hands through his messy black hair. “Sorry I just—I didn’t know what to say for a second. I never thought you’d ever actually like me back.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” you repeat hysterically, in utter and total disbelief. 

“I dunno, we’re just so… different,” he admits, his face and ears burning hotter by the second. “And I always thought you’d like someone who’s more… in your league, I guess?”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him, gaping and speechless.

“Holy _fuck_ , Kuroo,” you finally say, slapping your forehead with your hand in exasperation. “You are one of the smartest people I know, but _damn_ , you can be dense sometimes.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” he protests, shifting uncomfortably on the blanket that you two are sitting on.

“Literally the whole world knows I like you—except for you,” you huff, the warmth returning to your face once you say the words out loud. “Everyone is waiting for us to just ‘kiss already’ at this point.”

Kuroo looks like he’s going to pass out at that last part.

“And plus, someone ‘in my league’ is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, you of all people should know I don’t care about that stuff,” you continue. “You’re nice, you’re smart, and you genuinely care about me. Sure, I call you a nerd sometimes, but you’re also my best friend—there’s no one else I’d rather be with.”

“Oh, wow, um,” he stutters, still caught off guard. “Ditto.”

You look around for the nearest object to throw at him while he begs for your mercy and tells you he was kidding.

Silence befalls you two once again as you gradually shuffle closer to him, unravelling your blanket and draping it over his shoulders.

“Sooo,” he says after a moment, turning to look at you. “Are we gonna kiss or what?”

“Oh god, you are so lame,” you groan as he laughs nervously. 

But still, you crane your neck to meet his eyes, and slowly lean in closer and closer, until your faces are just a hair’s breadth apart. Kuroo can practically _hear_ his heartbeat pounding in his ears at this point, not daring to move a single muscle for fear that, with one wrong move, he would completely shatter the moment and wake up, realizing that this was all a dream.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek, then, on second thought, press your lips gently against his before pulling away. 

Time feels like it freezes completely.

Kuroo doesn’t wish for many things, but, if this were a dream, he’d never want to wake up from it. He can still feel the warmth of your lips in the cold air as he blinks, finally letting out the breath he was holding. 

He can’t believe you just kissed him—your best friend, someone who’s been by your side for years, and never even _dared_ to imagine a day like this.

It was a soft, innocent, and tender kiss, but he’s happy with it. 

He’s _more_ than happy.

You don’t say anything as Kuroo carefully takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers together before pressing his own lips against the back of your hand.

“By the way,” he says, smiling against your skin. 

Oh no, not the shit-eating grin.

“I’m pretty sure our pact exempts things said between 2 a.m. and 5 a.m.,” he ponders as you cringe. “It’s way past that—you were _real_ cute telling me why you like me, y’know that?”

“Fuck you.”

Kuroo lets out a hearty laugh at your words, and you think about how… happy he looks holding your hand. How relieved he sounds.

You don’t even notice that, along with the corners of your lips, the sun is finally beginning to rise, the black skies harmonizing with the blue hues of a new dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked it!   
> comments are greatly appreciated, and thank you so much for reading ♡


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